While pulling up piles of ancient carpet this past weekend, many solutions came to mind, including hurling the rolled-up mess off my balcony or sneaking the unsightly  dust-mite-filled, 1980s piles of Good Riddance into our complex’s dumpsters in a stealth mission at midnight. It’s truly a skill and I have seen others try to do the same (some successfully) with their olive toilets, water-wasting washing machines and mirrored closet doors, but it turns out our condo board sort of frowns upon this type of illegal dumping which leaves residents, well, holding the bag when there’s no dumpster room.

Oh, for the days of living down in the Beltline where nomads with shopping carts and bicycles are always willing to take that floor model TV, eight-track player or full-size mirror off your hands. Like clockwork, you could always count on the “good stuff” disappearing from its temporary resting ground next to the dumpster at the blink of an eye. But I digress. I’ve found life in the suburbs requires a little more planning.

It’s a good idea to determine what your condo board’s policy is about turfing unwanted items and how they deal with violators. Stern looks from the gal across the hall may not be the only penalty; you may actually be facing a fine for disposing of your reno debris.  But there are options for your unwanted, outgrown and even unsightly items space might not allow for in your condo digs.

Believe it or not, if you’ve tried pawning off building supplies to your family and friends to no avail, some things can be re-purposed, helping out a worthy cause at the same time. Habitat for Humanity’s ReStore (http://www.calgaryhabitat.ca) now has a pair of locations—one south and one in the north—and what they take might just surprise you. While they also accept new materials, furniture and appliances and then re-sell them to the public, with proceeds going toward building Habitat homes, used items are also welcome. The folks will even come and pick up larger donations, such as your old kitchen cabinets, doors and windows, lumber and plumbing supplies. And if you’ve ever wondered where to get a globe for the light your seven-foot-tall ex-boyfriend broke with his huge cranium, you’re in luck, as this is where 70s décor goes to die (or become new-to-someone-else).

And if you’re truck-challenged like my hubby and I or, also like us, have no idea where the dump is, there is always someone willing to haul away your unwanted goods. Perhaps the most recognized name is 1-800-Got-Junk? They’ll take anything for a fee, which usually ranges from $111 for a small pick-up (like those chartreuse kitchen appliances).
If you have enough things you want to be rid of to fill half of a 15-cubic-foot truck it’ll set you back $337, while the entire truck (and we’re talking gutting an entire place here), its just over $500, including dumping fees and labour.

Our stained, allergy-inducing carpet didn’t faze them—considering the 19,000 pounds one franchisee had to cart off or the freezer full of rotten seafood another was charged with eliminating, I’d say our helpers got off pretty easy. (And with the rains that have pummelled Cowtown, the Calgary Got-Junk team—our city’s was one of the first franchises, by the way—say there are far worse jobs, notably wringing out basements, as septic tanks are generally part of the equation!)

The company, founded in Vancouver by then-college student Brian Scudamore in 1989 (now the largest junk-removal service in the world, with 320 franchises and 40 trucks on Calgary roads alone), prides itself on being environmentally-friendly.  As much as 60 per cent of “junk” pick-ups are recycled or donated to non-profit organizations, such as thrift stores, artists and educational programs. In Calgary, electronics items are taken to e-cycle, metal goes to Navajo Metals, and all furniture in working order helps give people a hand up at the Inter-Faith Furniture store.

The only things they can’t take, for safety and disposal reasons is paint (call your fire department for this), car batteries, gasoline and aseptic.

Too bad. Now I will have to retire my covert disposal attire and abort the late-night mission to our dumpster. And I look so good in black. CL